


if my life is mine (what shouldn't i do)

by Solanaceae



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Character Study, Every Woman 2015, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-26
Updated: 2015-06-26
Packaged: 2018-04-06 05:05:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4209018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Solanaceae/pseuds/Solanaceae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life under the floorboards can be a bit stifling.</p>
            </blockquote>





	if my life is mine (what shouldn't i do)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hauntedd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hauntedd/gifts).



> *mumbles* I sorta mixed up the due date so I did submit this late as a result but regardless!! Here is the fic and I hope that you like it ^^;
> 
> Request was for Octavia backstory, and I had a ton of fun writing it :D

Bellamy was the one who taught her how to read. He slipped her his old schoolbooks, ran his fingers over the black ink until the strange symbols resolved themselves into letters and words.

O, _for Octavia,_  he whispered, tracing out an open circle on the back of her hand.

The space under the floorboards was dark, but she brought the books down there anyway, curling her hands into the pages and burying her nose in them. They smelled dusty and dry, but strangely comforting.

During the day, when their home was empty, she would wiggle out from under the floor and walk the length of the rooms, reveling in the way she could stretch her legs out all the way. As she got older, the floorboard space got more and more cramped, and it seemed that her moments of freedom were fewer and father in between.

She would stand on tiptoes and press her face to the narrow window, breath fogging the cold surface, blurring the starlight beyond. Sometimes, when the Ark tilted, she could see a crescent of blue-green below, like she was the moon soaring across the radioactive planet's skies.

***

"Why do I have to hide?" she asked her mother one day. Bellamy was at his desk, studying, and she caught the way one of his eyebrows twitched upwards at her question.

"Because it isn't safe for you to be outside," her mother replied absently, busy unwrapping the ration packs for that evening's meal.

Octavia leaned her elbows on the countertop – she'd recently gotten tall enough to do that – and pressed on. "But why not? Bellamy goes outside, how come it's safe for him?"

"It's just the way it is."

"But—"

"Enough, Octavia." Her mother's brows drew together, the thin skin of her forehead wrinkling.

"But it's not  _fair_!" she burst out, almost without meaning it. "Why?"

"Because you aren't supposed to exist," her mother snapped, the words harsh. Octavia froze. Across the room, Bellamy's pencil hit the desk with a sharp noise.

She could see her mother's mouth moving – an apology or further condemnation, she couldn't tell through the blood pounding through her ears, washing away everything but the hot shame clogging her throat, making it hard to breathe.

***

"It's not true."

"I don't care."

"O, look at me."

Octavia curled up stubbornly, pressing herself further into the corner. "No."

"You know it isn't true." His hand descended on her shoulder. "You  _are_  supposed to exist. Screw the Ark and its rules."

" _She_  doesn't think so."

He sighed and settled down beside her, hand still on her shoulder. "If she hadn't wanted you to exist, she wouldn't have given birth to you. I promise."

They sat in silence, nothing but the sound of their breath filling the room. Octavia picked at her nails, wondering when he would get tired of her sulking and finally leave. It had to happen eventually, she figured.

***

Bellamy brought back reports of what life was like outside the locked door that delineated the boundaries of Octavia's world, but they were never quite enough to satisfy the hunger for  _more_.

He bore her endless questions with patience –  _where do people go when they aren't in their homes, what kind of jobs are there, who makes sure everyone does their jobs –_ and she got a half-picture, through him, of what life on the Ark must be like.

She wanted to know more than that.

So she came up with a plan.

A crazy plan. A  _reckless_  plan, Bellamy might have said. But she didn't consult him, knowing exactly what he'd say, exactly how he'd try to stop her.

She was going outside.

Just for a look. One little look, and then she'd come back and lie under her floorboard and pretend nothing had happened. One look, and she'd be satisfied – just one, that was all she wanted.

(But if it worked, if she didn't get caught… there wouldn't be any  _harm_  in going out again, would there?)

She learned from Bellamy which would be the least populated areas of the Ark, when the corridor outside their room would be deserted. She even wheedled a map of their sector out of him, under the pretext that she wanted to be able to pretend how to get around outside. He gave her a strange look, but also gave her the map.

Above all, she could not get caught. She knew that. She would be  _careful_ , and nothing would go wrong.

Didn't she have just as much of a right as anyone else to live?

***

Bellamy was out and her mother asleep when she eased out from under the floorboard, replacing it carefully so if her mother happened to wake, it would look like she was still inside. The front door opened nearly soundlessly; she poked her head out around the frame to scan the hallway.

All clear.

Octavia glanced down at the map in her left hand and realized she was clutching it hard enough to wrinkle the plastic-coated paper. She forced herself to relax. It was fine. She was  _fine_.

One step, and she'd be outside of her world.

_Screw it._

She closed her eyes and stepped out in a short, jerky step before she could rethink it. Her foot came down harder than she'd expected, and the noise made her flinch.

 _It's not too late to turn around,_  a voice in the back of her mind noted. For a second, she almost considered it - and then she clenched her fists and took another step out, and another.

Okay, no. She was not going to be that scared little girl who ran back and hid under the floorboards. What was she going to do, spend the rest of her life there? Live there until she was an adult, get old and feeble until she couldn't even fit in the cramped space? They'd find her then, if they didn't find her before that.

There was only one way her story ended. No matter what she did, she would end up out  _there_ , being floated.

And more than that - she didn't  _want_  to spend the rest of her life down there.

She took a deep breath and set off down the hallway.

***

It was strange having so much space to  _move_.

She spread her arms out as far as they could go and raced down the hall, reveling in the way her feet pounded against the floor. A laugh bubbled up in her throat, itching to break free - and she let it out, knowing that back at home, her mother would have scolded her for being so loud.

But there was no one here to hear her right now, so she could pretend she was normal, could pretend she had just as much a right as anyone else on the Ark to walk down a hallway without fear of being floated.

She paused by a wide window, stepping into a small alcove to lean into it, pressing her palms to the cool surface. It was far wider than the one in her home, taller than she was and twice as wide. She could see the silver crescent of the Ark stretching out in the glitter of sunlight, and below that, white clouds blurring over the ocean.

Octavia imagined herself out there - not choking on airless vacuum, as she would if (when) she was discovered, but floating in the gravity-free embrace of space, flying weightless.

Her breath fogged the glass, a blue-tinted haze against the black. In a moment of daring, she lifted her finger and wrote her name. For a brief second, the single word stood against the glass, outlined in fading light, before it melted away.

There were footsteps coming from around the corner.

She froze for a second, heart stuttering - there wasn't  _supposed_  to be anyone, the security patrol wasn't due to come around this hour - before her instincts took over and she dove towards the far wall, pressing her back to the smooth metal, praying that the lip of the alcove would hide her from whoever was approaching.

"-and so I told her that no, the spare parts were supposed to arrive  _yesterday_ , but she insisted on blaming me-" A young woman, voice high and rapid. "Which is completely her  _thing,_  of course, I told you she hates me."

Octavia held her breath.

"Surely it isn't that bad." Another woman, this one with a slightly raspy voice. "You're zero-g cleared, you get to go  _out there_."

"Tell that to my supervisor." Both sets of footsteps were getting closer. "She won't even let me into the airlock, let alone into space."

"Mm."

The footsteps paused.

 _No,_  Octavia willed the two women silently.  _Just keep walking._

"It's a lovely view," the first woman said, and oh god they were right  _there_ , looking out the window, nothing more than a foot of metal keeping Octavia from their view-

"Look, I've got a really bad headache, can we just get home already?"

A hesitation, then- "Sure." The footsteps picked up again and faded down the hallway. Octavia slumped against the wall, hands shaking with relief. They hadn't seen her. She was safe.

***

She ducked back under the floorboards just shy of an hour past when she had stepped out the door, easing it down over her head and plunging herself into darkness again. In the silence, she could feel her heart slowing again, the rush of adrenaline from her near miss fading already.

And she already wanted to leave again.

This space was too small, too dark, too silent. She wanted to be free, wanted to run and laugh without worrying that someone might hear. One taste of freedom wasn't enough.

In the dark, she ran her fingers over the map, feeling the creases where she had crumpled it.

Just one more time, that was all she wanted.


End file.
